Lady of Lyonsbridge

by Ana Seymour

  She noted that he had used her Christian name. Or what he thought was her name.

  “’Tis my name,” she said defensively, then her hand flew to her mouth as she realized she’d spoken aloud.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Ah…you called me Rose.”

  They’d begun to ascend the narrow stone stairway. He placed a hand at her waist to steady her. “Aye, was it too forward of me?”

  “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the proper conventions, Sir Thomas.”

  “I’m delighted to hear it,” he said with a wicked grin. “They’re usually nothing more than a bother, so we’ll dispense with them. And you will call me Thomas.” His hand slipped a little more firmly around her waist.

  The knight’s teasing voice and the feel of his body close to hers were creating an unfamiliar melting sensation inside her stomach. She was perplexed to realize that the feeling was not entirely unpleasant.

  She tried to move away, but her shoulder scraped the rounded wall of the stairwell. Thomas pulled her toward him once again. “Let me assist you. A fine escort I’d make if I let you fall down the stairs.”

  “There will be light on the floor above,” she said, and, as they rounded the last turn of the stairs, they could see it reflecting dimly down to them.

  Thomas halted and pulled her to a stop on the step beside him. “Too bad,” he murmured. “For I’d begun to enjoy holding you close to me in the dark.”

  While it was true that Alyce knew little of court manners, she was virtually certain that it was improper for a gentleman to make such suggestive statements to a lady upon a single day’s acquaintance. Still, perversely, his husky words made the blood rush in her head.

  Of course, she reminded herself, Sir Thomas did not know that she was a lady. Undoubtedly it was not as great a transgression to talk this way to a mere lady’s maid.

  She tried to keep her voice light as she quipped, “Then ’tis fortunate for me that Lady Alyce keeps her castle well illuminated.”

  Thomas laughed and relaxed his hold slightly, but still did not let her continue up the remaining few stairs. “Your fortune is my ill fortune. Strange, but last night we stumbled about like blindmen. Where was your ladyship’s illumination then?”

  “She was ill, remember?”

  “Aye. And what about you, Rose? Didn’t you taste the disastrous dish?”

  “Nay, I…” She paused. “I ate day-old capon. I was trying to be proper and leave the stew for the visitors.”

  “Are you always proper, Rose?” he whispered close to her ear.

  “Aye,” she whispered back, licking suddenly dry lips.

  “Now there’s another pity.”

  In the dim light she could see that his features had altered. His eyes had narrowed and his expression had changed from the teasing charmer to something more predatory. She tried to turn away from his detaining arm, but the movement only backed her up against the wall. He pressed closer and she could feel the warmth of his body from her knees to her chest.

  “I must go—” she began as he lowered his head and kissed her.

  The kiss was brief, but the feel of it tingled on her lips long after he pulled away.

  Neither spoke for several moments, then he gave a rueful smile and said, “You can slap me if you like, mistress, but ’twould be worth it. I’ve tasted nothing that sweet on the long road to Damascus and back.”

  Alyce sagged back against the wall, uncertain her knees would hold her. “I suppose one should make allowances for a soldier returning from the wars. You’ve no doubt seen few women on your journey, and any woman would tempt you.”

  “Nay, not just any woman, Rose. I daresay I’ve resisted temptation more times than you might imagine. But ’twas your loveliness that I could not resist. Do you forgive me?”

  His tone was more teasing than contrite. She suspected that Thomas Havilland was confident his kiss would not be considered an insult, particularly not by a humble waiting woman in a small country castle. Yet in spite of the man’s arrogance, she found herself smiling back at him. “Let’s just say I shan’t mention it to the lady Alyce. That is, if you’ll release me now and let me go about my duties.”

  He stepped to the opposite side of the stair and gestured toward the floor above. “Off with you, then, fairest Rose. The brief sample was enough to add delicious flavor to my dreams this night. Perhaps tomorrow I might persuade you to let me taste more deeply of Sherborne’s fare. And I do not refer to your stews,” he added with a rueful chuckle.

  Alyce felt the heat rise to her face once again. She was shocked to realize that she found the knight’s bold words stimulating. By the saints, what was she thinking? She was acting like the servant of her masquerade rather than the proud lady of Sherborne. She pulled herself straight and met his eyes. “I was remiss in leaving the lady Alyce this evening, but I intend to spend the day at her side tomorrow.”

  “Then I shall join you,” Thomas said, undaunted. “I have some things to say to your mistress about this matter of her matrimony. Richard is still king of England. His brother has no right to impose his authority on her.”

  “That may be, but how do you suggest she defend herself when Prince John controls England and every nobleman in it?”

  “Not every nobleman,” Thomas said under his breath. Then he added in a lighter tone, “Lady Sherborne and I could at least discuss the matter. Come, don’t argue. Tell your mistress that I’ll attend her in her chambers at midmorning. Then, after our talk, I’ll convince her to give you the rest of the day free to show me around Sherborne.”

  Alyce gave an inner groan. “Your men are recovered. I thought you’d be anxious to be on your way.”

  “Our business can wait another couple of days. I’m not ready to ride away from here just yet.”

  As unskilled as she was in this matter of courtship, his grin left no doubt about why he was not ready to leave Sherborne. And in truth, she was not anxious for him to leave. It was absurd, but she suddenly realized that she not only wouldn’t object to another of Thomas Havilland’s kisses, she was actually hoping for one.

  Speaking slowly, she answered, “I don’t think my mistress will want to receive you when she’s not feeling her best, Sir Thomas, but I know she regrets not being a better hostess. I’ll ask her to permit me to show you around the estate.”

  His face brightened. “Excellent. Shall we meet at midmorning, then?”

  She nodded, then before she could regret her hasty decision, turned and rushed up the stairs.

  All the way down the long hall to her room, she invented justifications for her behavior. After what he had said, her agreement to see him as much as invited him to kiss her again. She would never have entertained such a notion for a moment when her father was alive.

  But she was a grown woman now, and though Thomas hadn’t come for that purpose, Baron Dunstan’s real emissaries would be here soon enough. She had little time left for the careless flirtations that most young people took for granted. And, after all, it wasn’t the lady of Sherborne who would kiss the handsome knight tomorrow. It was her maid, Rose.

  A little smile played around her lips as she went into her room. She’d had a year of nothing but mourning and hard work. Surely she deserved a little bit of fun. She’d allow herself one more day of this game.

  Chapter Three

  “I know you didn’t bed the maid, Thomas,” his lieutenant observed. “You returned to the fireside too quickly last night.”

  Thomas chuckled. “Perhaps I’m just faster than most.”

  “Nay.” Kenton shook his head firmly. “I’ve heard enough of your lovemaking prowess from the ladies at court to know that Thomas Brand does not hurry his conquests.”

  “It’s true I prefer to take my time with my pleasures. Battle should be swift. Lovemaking should be lingering.”

  “So how long do you intend to linger at Sherborne while our king rots in the emperor’s chains?”

  Thomas shot his
friend a reproving glance, but his tone was good-natured. “A day or two longer will not harm anything. We’ve most of the money raised.”

  “Did you tell your little Rose your real name?”

  Thomas frowned. “Nay, I’ve given her the Havilland alias. I don’t think it’s safe for it to be known that I’m back in England, even in this backwater castle.”

  “Which is why the sooner we finish gathering King Richard’s ransom and head back to the Continent, the better. If Prince John discovers our mission, he’d try to kill us all.”

  “I know. I don’t intend for anyone to find out.”

  “Yet you’ll risk tarrying for the sake of a pretty face.” Kenton’s normally sunny expression was gloomy.

  “Have some of this venison, Kent. It’ll improve your humor.” The two of them were seated alone at the long master’s table in the great hall. The rest of Thomas’s men had already broken their fast and gone out to the yard, taking advantage of the unexpected day’s rest to clean their weapons and their equipment.

  “I told you,” Kenton answered with a frown, “I’d prefer no more meals from Sherborne’s larder.”

  “That’s why you’re so grumpy—you’re hungry. ’Tis not like you to begrudge a friend a day’s dalliance. Or is it that you wanted the girl for yourself?”

  Kenton lifted his knife and stabbed a piece of meat off the board that sat on the table in front of Thomas. “Nay, she had eyes for none but you. Anyone could see that. And she’s too scrawny for my taste.”

  Thomas choked on the bite he’d just put in his mouth. “Scrawny? The sickness must’ve damaged your eyesight, my friend. She has curves aplenty in that long, sleek body. I’ve seldom seen such beauty of face or form.”

  “She’s pretty enough,” Kenton said, a little too casually.

  Thomas stopped chewing and peered at his friend. “You did want her, then.”

  Kenton cut off another hunk of meat. “’Swounds, Thomas, I’m breathing, aren’t I?”

  Both men were silent for a long moment, chewing the stringy meat. Finally Thomas sighed and said, “Aye, she’s that kind—a woman to make the fire burn in any man on two legs. The devil of it is, she doesn’t seem to know it.”

  “Nor does she seem much taken by the subject. She turned up her pretty little nose at your love ballads.”

  Thomas pushed the trencher away. “I suspect she’s more interested than she’s willing to admit.”

  Kenton leaned toward him. “And just how did you come to this conclusion?”

  Thomas grinned. “That, my friend, is none of your business.”

  “We’ve all been sorely deprived these past months,” Kenton said with a sulky expression. “If you win the maid, the least you can do is to let us feast on the details.”

  Thomas stood up. “Go groom your horse, Kenton, or oil your armor or douse yourself in the cold water of the castle reservoir. I’ve a lady to meet.”

  “Does your mistress also ride?” Thomas asked as he pulled his big gray stallion to a stop beside Alyce’s mare.

  “Aye,” Alyce answered, withholding a smile. “She’s noted for it hereabouts.”

  His eyes sparkled in the rare November sun. “I daresay she’s not as good as her companion Rose.”

  “I thank you for the compliment, sir, but everyone says that Lady Alyce is the best horsewoman in all the shire.”

  He shook his head. “People will say anything to curry favor with a noble. She’s probably one of those fine ladies who perches on the edge of her saddle and shrieks if the animal goes faster than a walk.”

  Alyce let her laughter spill out. She was enjoying herself too much to restrain it. The fine day and the company of a charming knight were proving an intoxicating mixture, and her deception only added to the diversion. For this one blessed day, she decided, she would put aside all thoughts of marriage taxes and brutish bridegrooms and enjoy being pretty and sought after by an eligible young man.

  Thomas had not tried to kiss her again. He’d greeted her that morning with a courtly bow, and when she’d suggested a ride, he had been the one to ask if she would be more comfortable in the company of others from the castle. When she’d declared recklessly that she preferred to have him to herself, there had been a brief flare of eagerness in his eyes, but in seconds the expression was carefully banked.

  “I don’t think the lady Alyce is prone to shrieking,” she answered him. “And you can believe me when I tell you that she rides every bit as well as I do.”

  “Then I’m maligning her, and I must make amends when I finally meet her. Will she join us for supper this evening?”

  “Oh, I’m afraid not. This morning she was still quite ill.”

  Thomas looked around the meadow they’d just crossed. The hardiest of the late fall wildflowers still dotted it with purple and yellow splotches. “What a shame to lie abed on such a day. Shall we gather some flowers to take to her? It seems the least I can do, since the stew that poisoned her was prepared for our benefit.”

  Alyce shifted uneasily in her saddle. “She’d not want you to fret over it, Sir Thomas. My lady has such a…” she paused a moment to swallow hard “…such a sweet nature that she would be unhappy to think you worried.”

  “Ah, she sounds like an angel. All the more reason to try to brighten her sickroom.” Thomas swung off his horse and held his arms up toward Alyce. “Come, we’ll pick some together.”

  Alyce slid down into them, her sudden, renewed wave of guilt banishing all embarrassment. It had been exhilarating to play the lady’s maid, and the disguise had given her a delicious sense of freedom, but she knew it was wicked of her to continue deceiving Thomas.

  His hands lingered at her waist for a few moments before he released her and stepped back, saying, “We really should have a basket. Then we could fill your mistress’s sickroom with color.”

  Alyce gave a rueful shake of her head and watched as the big knight began carefully plucking the delicate blossoms. “I thought knights spent their time thrashing each other and slaying dragons,” she said. “Your hands are strong and battle scarred, yet last night I watched them playing the lute, and now they pick flowers. You surprise me.”

  He looked up at her, smiling as he continued his chore. “A true knight must be a man of many talents, Rose. He’ll relish a good battle, but should have equal love of art and music. As well as a keen eye for a beautiful maid,” he added with a wink.

  “And you consider yourself a true knight, Sir Thomas?”

  He grinned. “One of the truest.”

  “I gather modesty is not one of the knightly virtues.”

  “Aye, but ’tis a minor one. The part about the ladies is much more important.”

  Alyce laughed. She had never before enjoyed banter such as this with a man. It was fun and oddly stimulating. It made her want to go up on tiptoe and break into a little dance.

  Thomas straightened and walked over to her, holding out a number of blossoms. “If you’ll not pick, you can at least hold these while I gather more.”

  “I’m sure you already have enough, Sir Thomas. Lady Alyce’s bedchamber is not very big.”

  Thomas looked at the bunch in his hands for a long moment. Then he said, “You’ll still have to hold these.”

  “Why?” she asked, but took the flowers from him.

  “Because I need my hands free to hold you,” he said. Then he encircled her with his arms and pulled her close up against him. The blossoms crumpled between them. They both laughed as he looked down at them ruefully and observed, “Oh, bother. This won’t work, either.”

  Alyce was embarrassed to admit to herself that she’d been waiting for this moment all day. She’d been unable to get Thomas’s brief kiss out of her mind, and, though she knew it was a scandalous desire for a well-bred maiden, she wanted another sample. And she wasn’t about to let some fast-wilting flowers stand in her way. “Never mind,” she said, bending down to deposit the bouquet on the ground. “They’ll be fine right here until
we’re ready to leave.”

  Thomas’s smile of satisfaction was confirmation that she was acting like a village hussy, but she didn’t care as he put his arms around her again and lowered his lips to hers. Unlike the brief kiss of the previous evening, this one was slow and deep. His mouth gently melded with hers, warm and moist, then opened to urge a more ardent joining. For several moments, Alyce lost track of everything that surrounded them. She could no longer smell the dry grass of the meadow or hear the horses’ impatient huffing. Her entire world was centered in Thomas’s kiss.

  He gave a little groan of pleasure as he drew away. Closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers, he murmured, “By the rood, Rose, I’ve never in my life tasted anything so sweet.”

  Her arms had crept around his neck and they tightened at his words. He sounded utterly sincere. Thomas Havilland was obviously a practiced gallant, but there was a note in his declaration that rang true. Of course, the notion was absurd. He had kissed many women. In his eyes, she was just a servant on whom he could practice his skill at flirtation. And he was obviously hungry for a woman after a dreary campaign.

  She put the thought into words. “You say that you’ve been away from home for a long time, Sir Thomas. No doubt the slightest attention from an English maid would seem wondrous to you.”

  He loosened his hold on her and answered slowly, “Nay. I’ll admit I’ve had few kisses over these past months, but this is something…” His voice trailed off.

  His expression was genuinely puzzled, and Alyce was tempted to believe that he had indeed found the kisses as compelling as she had. Unconsciously, she tilted her face, and he accepted the mute offer by kissing her again. This time she didn’t know how many minutes transpired before he pulled away with a deep, ragged breath.

  “You’ve bewitched me, Rose. Or have you fed me one of old Maeve’s love potions?” When she flushed, he laughed and added, “No matter. I’m not objecting. But you must know ’tis dangerous to incite a man’s passions.”